


Victim's Revenge

by yourrhinestoneeyes



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Death, M/M, Torture, mentions of abuse, messanger of death, zombie Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/yourrhinestoneeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more to Toki's 'gift' than just taking lives and souls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. God of the Undead

The dead were loyal to whoever gave them back their lives, but it wasn't a real life. Their souls weren't in their bodies any longer, they were puppets. They were pathetic writhing, glazed eyed puppets. Toki liked to pretend that it wasn't like that though.

Nobody had exactly questioned or judged when he said that he had wanted to take Magnus' corpse. Frankly nobody gave a shit what happened to the filthy bastard, with as much respect as he'd had for human life it only seemed right if one of his victims treated his corpse with that same lack of respect. Toki had known for a long time that what he could do went beyond taking life and spreading disease. It just wasn't something that he took pride in, nothing about his 'gift' made him feel proud. 

He thought about when he'd been seven, the dead rabbit he had found out in the snow. Its neck had been snapped by his father earlier in the day. He remembered holding it against his chest and wishing life back into it, just wanting the small creature to be alive again. When he felt its leg kick against his chest it had startled him, he had dropped the animal onto the ground. It had landed with a heavy thud, but he could see its open eye, its mouth slowly opening and closing. It still looked dead, it looked almost surreal. He had told himself it hadn't really been dead, but those glassy eyes said other wise. It's barely there heart beat and rot smelling breath told him other wise. Just he'd been young at the time, until his twenties he didn't think about it. Until he wanted to test his 'gift' out again he hadn't thought about it. He hadn't wanted to think about it. It was bad enough he took lives or maybe made death easier, quicker for the ailing. He didn't know, because it scared him.

This was different though. This wasn't an animal or a person that he cared about. This was somebody who chained him up like a dog, beat him, cut him, starved him, and made him half blind. This was somebody who tortured him for a year straight just because of some psychotic vendetta. Magnus was the perfect subject to see if he was right, to see if his power really did work in two ways.

He had been nervous and scared when he had tried it. When he had gone into the dungeon like room, up to the limp bloodied corpse that was in the center of the room. The corpse was propped up on its knees, arms stretched out at its sides with its wrists in metal cuffs. As he had placed his hand over the older man's stitched up chest he had felt his own heart beat quicker, he'd been scared that maybe Magnus would come back just like before. Even chained up that scared him, he wasn't sure if he could handle that. He focused his energy and his emotion on the cadaver, he closed his eyes and imagined the deadened heart beating again. He jerked his hand away when he felt the first rise of Magnus' chest and heard that disgusting rasp of breath from parted dried lips. 

That first day he hadn't been sure what to do other than to stare at him in shock, his legs felt shaky, and when those mismatched eyes looked up at him he broke into tears. It wasn't what he had planned, he hadn't planned anything. Initially he thought he would feel rage, he'd been enraged the second the feelings of deep violation and pain subsided. He had hated him so much once he got the chance to really realize what had happened to him in all that time, but now....It was different, it was scary.

There was no familiar look of pleased sadistic madness in his eyes, he looked like a mindless toy. He breathed, he even moved a little and unsteadily, but he couldn't speak. He was restrained so he couldn't cause any harm, but Toki knew he wouldn't harm him either way. Magnus wasn't there anymore, he was just a body minus the soul. The soul was gone off to hopefully some circle of Hell. This was a thing. Yet it represented so many of his fears, so much of his pain. He found himself falling to the ground and sobbing. He couldn't take those eyes looking at him, he couldn't take the damp dark room that looked too much like the one he had been kept in for all of that time. He had spent too much of his life locked in confined spaces, being punished for things his friends told him he didn't deserve to be punished for. Ever since he was sixteen his friends had told him that the things he did and thought weren't wrong. He just couldn't shake the warped values his father had instilled in him, he couldn't shake the sick things Magnus had said and done.

He just couldn't get himself to do it, he couldn't get himself to see Magnus as anything else other than the man who hurt him. He knew it was pathetic and weak to be scared of a zombie, but it was all in what he represented. 

When Toki had left the room and the cold eyes of the dead man who had been his tormentor and gone back to Skwisgaar's room his friend was kind enough to not ask questions. He didn't ask why Toki was crying or shaking, he didn't ask why he had wanted to keep Magnus' body in their home. He just wrapped his arms around his waist and held him closely when the younger man crawled into bed with him. It would be a week before he would be brave enough to visit that room again.


	2. Nightmares and Rage

The first time that Toki actually attacked Magnus had been after one of a million nightmares. Normally they made him cry, scared him and made him temporarily lose touch with reality. This time it just angered him, it angered him that he couldn't sleep like his friends. He couldn't just go to sleep and dream about something stupid or something pleasant, he was plagued with nightmares. Nobody could comfort him by telling him that they were just dreams, because they were always about things that had really happened to him. Terrible things he'd pay anything to just forget, he wanted to go on with his life. He used to pretend he was remotely normal, that he wasn't slightly insane; he just wanted to be okay. Magnus took that away from him, he left him nothing but a raw nerve that flinched at touches or loud sounds. 

After he woke from a nightmare of dark damp dungeons, of being chained, and kicked he went to the room where he kept the monster he used to fear. Unlike the last time he didn't cry, he didn't feel scared of this thing. Magnus looked up at the sound of the door slamming shut, his eyes blinked slowly and he watched the man who brought him back to life like a loyal pet. He only rasped when Toki kicked him hard in the chest. He would have loved a response, would have loved a pained cry, or to be threatened. He couldn't get that though; Magnus was a slowly rotting corpse who would be here until Toki felt thoroughly through with him. He wasn't sure when that day would come.

He kicked him in the mouth knocking his head back, his neck made a cracking sound, blood sprayed from his mouth. He slowly moved his head, bones crunching as he did so. Blood poured from his open mouth, mismatched eyes stared up at him, and teeth fell from his mouth hitting against the floor like pieces of porcelain. The sight made Toki feel sick, it reminded him of people he had hurt before, but this one was dead. This one hurt him first, he had the right to do this. His mind flashed with images; flashed with images of Magnus pulling his hair until he was pulling it out, images of a knife against his throat, fingers pushing inside of a badly infected stab wound on his abdomen. He delivered another kick to his chest, he kicked again and again until stitches began to tear and blood began to run from the open wounds. 

“I fucking hate you, you fucking bastard! You stupid fucking arrogant bastard. What did I fucking do to you? What did I even fucking do?”

He grabbed a fist full of greasy brown hair and pulled hard jerking Magnus' head back. This time the crunching of bones in his neck didn't bother him. He felt his rage suffocating him, he felt it swelling up inside of him giving him reason to exist at this point. This creature, this man had put a collar around his neck; he had forced him to hurt a woman he called his friend. He had starved him and made him do disturbing unimaginable things for his medication. This thing had never been a man, he'd always been some sort of a creature running around pretending to be a man.

That was why he felt it was safe to remove the cuffs from his wrists and let the corpse drop to the ground. 

“Get up you fucking prick!”

The older man slowly moved, he moved too slowly; his movements were jerky and spastic. Toki kicked him hard in the ribs sending him back onto his side. His breathing remained choked and raspy, blood and spit ran out of his mouth with each suffocated breath. It only got worse when Toki kicked him in the mouth again, more teeth fell from his blood filled mouth, he shoved the zombie onto its back making it choke on its own blood. He hated he wouldn't react like he should, he hated this wasn't hurting him. He hated those loyal fucking eyes. He hated his eyes, he hated his own eyes; every fucking time he looked into a mirror he had to see this. He had to see him.

The anger left him leaving him shaking and crying just like the first time. 

Toki left and went to the bathroom connected to Skwisgaar's room. He went to the mirror and looked at himself. His skin was pale, he was still shaking, blood stained his hands and his clothes from where he had attacked the zombie he was keeping. He looked into his reflection looking carefully at his own mismatched eyes. He touched his fingers to the skin beneath his left eye; it wasn't shocking that a diet of human body parts, garbage, and only being given insulin when you were willing to degrade yourself in ways that scarred you for life could cause infection. Magnus had been pleased when he realized his 'pet' was going blind in his left eye, he often said he would quicken the process and just cut it out if he thought that he'd have the time or if he knew Toki wouldn't die from blood loss or an even worse infection. Bad enough the entry and exit knife wounds on his body were so badly infected near the end that he was close to dying. 

Every time he had to look at himself he had to think about these things. He had to think about terrible things that made him feel dirty and disgusting. 

“Fuck!” 

He punched the mirror shattering the glass, shards fell into the sink below. He didn't really think about the stinging throbbing pain going through his arm, he almost felt numb....He backed away from the sink until his back hit the wall, he slid down onto the ground and just stared down at his blood soaked hand and the small fragments of glass sticking out from his knuckles. He barely felt it. He didn't feel anything other than this overwhelming sense that nothing was as real as he thought it was. 

He didn't even know Skwisgaar was in the room until the older musician began shaking him by his shoulders and practically screaming his name. He lifted his eyes to his partner's, Skwisgaar looked scared. 

“What did you do to yourself, gods damn it...”

Toki simply sat there just watching as the older man worked to remove the glass from his hand and get the bleeding to stop. The older man's warm touch just tethered him to life, pulled him away from dungeons and filthy old bastards. 

“Tell me what happened” Skwisgaar whispered once he had the dark haired man's hand bandaged up.

He brushed his fingers against his cheek, Toki leaned into his touch. 

“I don't like looking at myself anymore Skwis”

He laughed until it dissolved into crying, the blond haired man held him. Toki buried his face against his chest. Skwisgaar combed his fingers through his hair then ran them down over his scarred back. He wished that he was actually good at telling people what they needed to hear. 

“I'll take you back to bed, okay? You barely get any sleep.”

“The nightmares don't help.” Toki muttered.

He still allowed Skwisgaar to pull him to his feet and lead him back into the bedroom. He was happy to get out of his blood stained shoes and jeans, he lay down and stared up at the overly white ceiling. He'd never totally understood his friend's obsession with things being white. It was to the point of just being blinding, but Skwisgaar liked the snow and things that seemed pure on the surface.

“I love you” The blond haired man whispered against his skin, full lips pressed against his chest.

Toki looked down at him and into his beautiful blue eyes. He ran his fingers through Skwisgaar's hair pushing it back out of his face. He moaned softly when the older guitarist kissed him, he felt content and safe with Skwisgaar's body pressed against his. They weren't perfect, they were so used and fucked up; it was such a common ground they both had always been so scared to broach. Skwisgaar had known without ever asking what type of things Magnus had done to Toki, he figured it out in the way his friend now carried himself. He noticed things he'd only ever really seen in himself when he'd been in his teen years. He didn't need to bring it up or bother him for details, he was going through too much Hell to be asked to bring it up. Skwisgaar just wanted to give him the comfort he had wished somebody had given him back then. 

“Jeg elsker deg også .... Jeg føler meg så ekkelt skjønt, hva er galt med meg?”

“Nothing, nothing is wrong with you.” The older man whispered.

He kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and then his lips; the younger man smiled into the kiss. Skwissgaar whispered to him how beautiful he thought that he was, there was nothing wrong with him. None of this was his fault, he needed to know that. The older man lay by his side, he held his hand rubbing his thumb across bandaged knuckles.


	3. Holding On Is Bad For Your Health

As time wore on Toki found himself visiting Magnus more and more. He went from kicking and punching the zombie to stabbing and cutting into it. He would leave it bleeding, wait a few days then go back for another round. At first it was only when he had nightmares pertaining to what Magnus had done to him. It got worse though; he found himself thinking about what had happened to him more and more, more than he had in the beginning. He found himself obsessed with it, found himself even obsessing over the things his father and mother had done to him. He found himself filled with rage and taking it out on the soulless body that lay on the cold water stained stone floor. He went from feeling sickened and full of remorse for what he was doing to feeling delighted by it. He was finding a strange sort of pleasure it in, but it was so empty. No matter what he did to Magnus he wouldn't die, he wouldn't scream out in pain, or beg for Toki to stop hurting him. He wouldn't flinch away, he wouldn't whimper, or cry. He just lay there looking up at him with his lifeless eyes. Over the weeks that passed his body got worse and worse, over time Toki spent more and more hours down in that room.

He had wanted this to help ease his pain, he had wanted to get over this part of his life. He was only becoming more obsessed with it, more lost in tragic memories. His nightmares were getting worse, fits of anger and depression were becoming a lot more common. He knew he should stop, he should just remove the head of the God forsaken thing in the basement and get on with his life. Go back on his anti depressants, but he couldn't get himself to. That rage filled part of himself liked this too much, told him that he had every right to this. Magnus had died too easily, he hadn't suffered the way he had made others suffer. 

He found himself tossing and turning in his bed, soaked in sweat, and groaning from phantom pains. Scars on his body throbbed lightly from times that should be nothing but long buried memories. He felt a tightness around his throat like something was choking him, he felt panicked, and when he woke up he felt angry. He found himself getting dressed and going down to where he kept the person he decided to blame for every single pain in his life. Every single ounce of depression and terror, every diagnosed mental disorder, and illness he blamed on Magnus. He needed somebody to blame, he was through blaming himself like he had been taught to do as a child. He wasn't to blame for this, any of this; other people made him this way. Magnus wasn't completely alive, but he was there to take the pain out on. He couldn't fight back, he couldn't leave.

When Toki entered the room and looked at him lying there on the ground he hated him so much. He pictured him like he used to be, he saw him as the snide crazed fucker who kicked him. He saw him as the man who violated him, he saw him as the man who accused him of ruining his life. 

“Get up, now.”

The zombie did its best to move. Its legs were broken, its right hand was so smashed up that the fingers were beginning to fall off, and its face was nothing but bruises and ripped flesh. Not as terrible as its caved in chest. He didn't notice any of that though, in his mind it was the same person it had been before dying. 

He didn't see a mangled body, he saw something evil, because he needed this. He needed to justify what he was doing, what he was feeling; he needed some satisfaction for the hell he had been through. 

“Why do you move so fucking slowly? I said fucking stand up!”

He kicked the corpse in the stomach throwing it back onto the ground. It was seconds before it tried to move, it did its best to drag itself up into a sitting position. Again and again it tried to get to its feet, it did its best to try and obey its God. It was too damaged, too injured to stand though. 

Toki approached the corpse, he began kicking it; he reached down grabbing it by its blood soaked hair and jerking it up into a sitting position. Blood still poured from its mouth from all of the times he had kicked, punched, and cut into its face. He found himself punching it again and again, smacking its head hard against the ground and screaming at it.

“Why won't you fucking stand? Why won't you fucking say something?”

“You stupid, disgusting useless bastard!”

Every fading mark on his own body hurt, every mark that in time always healed, but would always be there to remind him. He was a map of scars, he couldn't even hide them anymore; there were too many at this point to hide up with concealer and clothing. He couldn't hide it, he couldn't escape a lifetime of horrific and pain filled memories. He couldn't get over it, he couldn't get all of the anger and the hurt out of his system. He couldn't understand why these people kept on hurting him, what did he do?

“What did I fucking do to deserve this? What did I fucking do to you? I didn't even fucking know you!”

He kicked Magnus in the throat, he kicked his chest and stomach. He wanted to hurt him until there was nothing left, he wanted to leave him exposed and scarred. He wanted him to know what it felt like.

“You fucking ruined me, you fucking asshole. I didn't even fucking know you back then, I was a kid; you fucking stalked me and blamed me because you fucked things up. I didn't do anything wrong.”

The corpse was still struggling to sit, it knew that it needed to stand and maybe its God would be happier with it, but each time he went to stand his God would kick him back down. Blood covered the front of its body, Magnus' blood stained Toki's hands and clothes. 

“Scream, fucking do something! I hate you, I fucking hate you...I hate you so god damn much.”

He picked up the knife from the floor, the one that had been stabbed through his own body over a year ago. He held it tightly and plunged the knife into Magnus' chest again and again, he could hear it when the tip of the blade hit through and into the stone floor beneath his morbid toy. Somebody grabbed him by his waist and pulled him off of the zombie, Toki kicked and elbowed the person who was holding onto him. 

“Let me go, fucking get off of me!”

A hand gripped tightly to the hand that clutched the knife, longer more calloused fingers worked to pry his own fingers from the handle of the blade. He released it allowing it to drop to the ground. He continued to struggle, but Skwisgaar was determined to hold him back away from the thing sitting on the floor.

“He's dead Toki”

“No he isn't, he's right there. He won't fucking leave my head, he's always fucking there. Let me do this, I deserve this.”

“It's over, you need to let go.” The older man whispered against his ear.

Toki stopped struggling, anger turned to fear, and he started crying. Skwisgaar lowered him onto the ground when he knew that his boyfriend wouldn't go back to attacking the creature on the ground that watched them with vaguely curious dead eyes. The blond haired man knelt on the ground, he pushed Toki's hair back behind his ears and out of his face. The younger musician wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face against his chest.

“It's never fucking over, you don't know what he did to me.”

“I think I have an idea about what he did, but this isn't making it better.” 

Toki pulled back and looked up at the older man.

“How long did you know about this?”

Nobody knew about this, nobody knew that he could bring the dead back to life. His parents had known, but they had taught him from an early age about what he was capable of.

“Couple weeks, I wondered what was going on....I asked Charles about it and he told me about this.”

He wasn't sure how to phrase it. He felt uncomfortable about the rasping breath of the zombie just a couple feet away from them, he could still feel its eyes on them. There was something wrong about seeing Magnus again, seeing him like this; some part of him felt he deserved a torture like this, but another part knew how unhealthy this was. 

Skwisgaar stroked his fingers through Toki's hair, he pressed his lips against his forehead.

“Why are you here?”

“You can't keep doing this, it isn't healthy for you. He's dead, that's just a thing and you know that. You're always coming down here, you have more nightmares than you usually do. You can't cling onto this, it's going to drive you insane.”

Toki wanted to yell at him, to tell him that he was wrong about that. He couldn't though, he knew he was right, but he had such problems letting this go. He rest his head against the blond haired man's chest, he dug his fingers into the material of his shirt needing to cling onto something living and sane.

“I can't do it. He fucking ruined me, I can't do anything without thinking about what he did to me. I can't do it.”

“Yes you can, you can't keep doing this to yourself....You have to let him go.”

Toki listened to Magnus' rasping breath, the zombie was watching him with sick mindless worship. He tried to pull away from that, it didn't even make him angry at this point it made him feel sick. He looked up into Skwisgaar's eyes, he needed help from this.

“You can do this, I believe in you.”

“I...C-can you leave, I really...”

“Sure, it's fine. I'll be upstairs waiting, alright?”

The younger man nodded, he averted his eyes.

He felt cold and alone when Skwisgaar got up and left the room. Now he was back alone with the creature from his nightmare fueled past. He looked at it sitting there on the ground, it stared up at him in a way that made him feel sick to his gut. He picked the knife back up from the floor and approached the creature again. He grabbed it by its hair jerking its head back, he pierced the blade into the front of its throat and began cutting into its soft pliable flesh. He was grateful it didn't take long for the head to separate from the body, blood flowed down from the stump and over its torso. He dropped the head and the knife to the ground; somebody else would take care of the remains.

Toki made his way up the stairs, he kept his head lowered and his hair over his face. He felt ashamed by what he had done, what he had been doing down in that room. He thought about his own anger, about the pleasure he had gotten from harming Magnus, but it was over now. It was over until somebody else set that off in him, until he snapped again and hurt somebody. When he reached the top of the stairs Skwisgaar was there waiting for him, the older man took him by the hand and led him back to his room. He didn't say anything, neither of them did.

Skwisgaar grabbed his guitar from the floor and sat on the bed and played while Toki showered and washed the blood and gore from his skin and hair. He changed into Skwisgaar's clothes once he was done, the older musician watched him dress out of the corner of his eye. Toki smiled and shook his head, he went to the bed and sat down next to the blond haired man. He watched him play guitar, Skwisgaar always seemed the happiest when he played; it was the one thing he had control over in life. The older musician smiled softly when Toki kissed his neck, he tilted his head to the side and let out a low moan when teeth lightly nipped at his skin.

“Do you really think I'll get better?” 

“I do. You've gotten through a lot, you'll get through this too.”

He knew his friend was strong, now that he released that final physical tie he would be able to move on better this time. Skwisgaar sat his guitar to the side, Toki climbed onto his lap. The younger man kissed him gently then lay his head against his chest; he felt calmed and relaxed as familiar hands rubbed over his back.

“I'm sorry you had to see that...I didn't want anybody to know about it, what I can do.”

“Don't be sorry, it's your...I think Charles said ability or something like that. He said we all have them and they have a purpose, there's nothing wrong with it.”

Toki smiled sadly, he nuzzled against the older man's chest.

He wished his family had thought of it that way. Life would have been so much different if somebody had told him and taught him from the beginning that it was okay. That what he was able to do wasn't wrong or evil, that if he worked hard he could get his powers under control. He could learn how to control life, death, weather changes, and his ability to resurrect the deceased. Instead they had shunned him, they had tortured, and starved him. They had raised him like a beast and prayed to a Christian God that he would just die. He grew up being scared of that part of himself, he grew up scared of every part of himself. He wished it hadn't taken until now to realize that he wasn't wrong or sick. He wasn't even alone, his friends were like him.

He pulled his head back and looked up at Skwisgaar.

“None of us are normal are we?”

“Fuck no, we're all as strange as you little one. You've just had more exposure to what you can do than the rest of us, we'll all work on this together. No more loneliness, yeah?”

“Yeah, thank you Skwisgaar.”

He took the older man's face in his hands and leaned up kissing him, Skwisgaar tangled his fingers in his hair. He held him closely, they kissed deeply and slowly; for right now everything in the past year and a half felt like a bad nightmare. It didn't feel real, it would hit him and it would hit hard, but he'd be able to grieve and move on this time. He would be able to work through the pain, betrayal, and the feelings of being broken. He wasn't alone in this, he wasn't the only one who could do things that weren't normal, he wasn't the only one from an abusive household. He needed to know that, to remind himself that. He needed to fully let go of the ghost of abusive monsters and move on.


End file.
